


Truth & Lies

by ThePenultimateAvenger



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenultimateAvenger/pseuds/ThePenultimateAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddy spends the night at White's motel room and lets some of the truth out, among all the lies he's been telling on this job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth & Lies

**Author's Note:**

> The daddy kink part of this is so brief...like, blink and you'll miss it. I'm sorry if that's what you came here for because I can guarantee that I didn't deliver.

Freddy's long past the point of being able to think straight, gripping the headboard with white knuckles as White fucks him long and deep, filling the room with breathy, frantic moans as his toes curl into the cheap motel bedspread. He's lost in the feeling of White moving above him, lost in the feeling of hot skin and mingling breaths and strong hands gripping his thighs, not quite hard enough to bruise but a heavy presence that keeps him grounded where he feels he'd float away otherwise. His head is an overwhelming and incoherent jumble, half formed trains of thought all rolling around and forgotten almost instantly. Expletives slip out between the other noises he's making, mindless and desperate and so much different than White's reserved grunts and reverent whispers.

And then the single word escapes from his kiss-bruised lips, “daddy—”, released with a quiet, desperate gasp.

A split second later his brain catches up, an immediate sense of horror and mortification hitting him like a punch to the gut, mind reeling with a “ _what the_ _ **fuck**_ _did I just say?_ ” But he's too far gone for the concern to linger for more than a few panicked seconds. He twists his head roughly to the side, lips parting as he comes with a needy sound in the back of his throat, stars bursting across his vision like sparks of electricity.

White's hand moves from his hip, smoothing across his stomach and over his ribs, up to his neck, guiding his mouth into a rough kiss with a thumb at his chin. White's thrusts lose their rhythm, the hand at Freddy's hip gripping tighter before moving to hook around his thigh, pulling him closer as his own orgasm hits him. They stay like that for a few prolonged moments, kissing through their breathlessness and coming down from the high of it.

White breaks away, pulling out finally and tying off the condom before tossing it into the trashcan. Freddy's muscles feel loose as he sinks further into the mattress, a few strands of hair sticking to the sweat his forehead while the rest spills messily onto the pillow. He struggles to catch his breath, face feeling like it's on fire as he comes to his senses with his chest heaving. White moves to stand up, the mattress dipping with his weight, and Freddy almost reaches a hand out to stop him.

Almost.

His hand isn't even off the bed before he changes his mind. This thing between them is vague. Undefined. Probably nothing more than casual sex, at least as far as White has indicated, and it's probably better that way in the long run anyway. Freddy's here to do a job and he's already lost sight of his priorities, he doesn't need _feelings_ to get involved.

Even if they already have, a little bit. At least on his part.

He reminds himself that White is a temporary thing, something that will inevitably come to a messy and abrupt halt once the heist goes down. And then it won't even matter that Freddy accidentally called the guy “daddy”. White will be behind bars and Freddy won't be Mr. Orange anymore those are just the facts.

Freddy frowns. It's not a comforting thought.

He watches White move into the bathroom, taking in the lines of muscle that wind their way across the man's body with a slight frown and still-flushed cheeks. The hell of it is, he really likes this guy. More than he should, considering the fact that they've only known each other for a few days. Just over a week. It's ridiculous.

He shoves his hair out of his face with a heavy exhale, closing his eyes and drifting to the sounds of traffic outside. His thoughts are a mess. He's never called anyone daddy before, least of all right before shooting his load across his own stomach, and he's not sure he wants to look too closely at the implications of it. This whole thing is so fucked up. It would have been so much easier if he'd just ignored the initial temptation and stayed professional.

He opens his eyes again when he feels the bed dip, stifling a yawn into the crook of his elbow. White's holding a glass of water out to him, a washcloth in the other hand, and Freddy sits up to accept the glass, taking several long drinks as he realizes how thirsty he actually is.

“You look like you're about to fall asleep, kid.” White notes quietly, gently washing the come from Freddy's skin before pulling his hand away.

The room is dark, a single stream of light pouring from the open bathroom door, painting a golden line across the carpet and the end of the bed, and it does nothing to ease the uncertainty pooling in Freddy's gut. “I should get home.” He says, voice a little hoarse. They've only done this a couple times, always at White's motel room, but he doesn't stay the night. Always makes an excuse to leave before White inevitably asks him to.

He's not expecting the hand that comes up to cradle his jaw, and he meets White's eyes through the darkness as the man's thumb rubs back and forth across his cheek. Against his better judgment he leans into the touch, eyes falling shut of their own accord.

White is silent for a few moments. Thoughtful. His thumb moves a bit further to catch on Freddy's bottom lip before his hand drops away entirely, letting out a breath as he opens his mouth to speak. “It's late. You could stay, y'know.”

The words are a surprise but they make Freddy's heart flutter. The thought of staying is so goddamn appealing and he's just exhausted enough to ignore the questions raised by the offer—why now, what does White want from this, whether or not the guy is just being polite. He adjusts his grip on the glass, already knowing that he's going to give into the temptation because he's weak, just like he was the first time he let himself come back to White's motel room, and he really is exhausted. Too exhausted to think about collecting his clothes from the floor and calling himself a cab. “I don't want to be in your way.” He says with a shrug, careful to show nothing on his face.

“Don't worry about it, kiddo.” White says, leaving no room for argument. He coaxes the half-empty glass of water from Freddy's fingers and sets it on the bedside table, getting to his feet and padding back over to the bathroom so he can deposit the washcloth and flick the light off.

Freddy listens as the man moves around, eventually returning to bed and pulling the comforter over them both. It takes a long while for Freddy's eyes to adjust to the dim blue of the room, only faintly illuminated by the light from the city outside. He shifts around until he's comfortable, ignoring the part of him that wants to press closer to White because keeping his distance is probably the wisest course of action. At least, that's what he's telling himself. This is such unfamiliar territory and he's not accustomed to sharing a bed with someone, making his mind up to take up as little space as possible and to sneak away once it's light out.

He closes his eyes, breathing evenly in the hopes of calming his racing heart. He senses White move closer but he doesn't expect the fingertips that brush against his cheek, a ghosting touch that becomes bolder and more solid as White's hand moves into his hair. “You sure are somethin', you know that, Orange?”

Freddy swallows hard. The words send a thrill through him, making him think that maybe this _isn't_ just sex, maybe White feels _something_ for him, and this time he actually does press closer, nuzzling his face against the man's chest as he struggles to think of a response. White moves around to accommodate him, hand sweeping slowly up and down his back, holding him close. Freddy's thankful for the darkness because his cheeks are on fire and emotion is welling up in his chest.

This is everything he wants but everything he can't let himself have. Not with White.

There's a long, dragging silence that he wants desperately to fill but all of the things he wants to say would probably sound stupid so he settles for snaking his arm around White's side a little uncertainly, testing the waters.

“Can I ask you somethin'?” White asks suddenly, voice muffled by Freddy's hair.

“Yeah.” Freddy mumbles after a pregnant pause, trying not to let the question put him on his guard.

White doesn't immediately speak. Freddy can practically hear the gears turning in the man's head. “What're we doin' here?”

“I think the kids these days call it cuddling.”

This earns him a gentle swat on the hip but White's hand moves back up to Freddy's hair right after, threading fingers through dirty blonde locks like he's reaching out for a lifeline. “That's not what I meant.” He says, and Freddy knows that. “Christ, kid. Look at you. You're a fuckin' dream. What're you doin' messing around with an old man like me? After that first time—” He hesitates, hand going still for a few brief seconds before continuing it's movements through Freddy's hair. “I didn't expect it to happen again. Y'know like, shit I got lucky once but there's no fuckin' way a kid like this is gonna go wastin' any more of his time on a guy like me.”

Freddy can hear the insecurity in White's voice, the kind of self-consciousness that really only lets itself be known in dark, intimate moments like this one, and it just about breaks his heart. “The fuck you mean ' _a guy like you_ '?” He asks, pulling back just far enough that he can meet White's eyes through the darkness. This is verging on some fucking dangerous territory, but White's insecurities mirror his so closely and, if anything, he needs the guy to know that...well, that none of this has been a waste of his time. “Fuck, man, I don't just sleep with _anyone_.” He wants to say ' _you had me from the moment I met your eyes back at that bar_ ' but he keeps it to himself because that would be giving away too much. “I mean, even if it's just casual sex—”

“Is that what this is?”

White asks it like he's letting Freddy make the decisions here and that's such a scary thought. “I dunno. Does it matter?”

“Let's say for a moment that it does.”

“Well, I mean...I wouldn't mind if it was but.” Freddy takes a breath. “But there's a lot to it, man. I'm on a job. _We're_ on a job.” He inwardly grimaces at the slip up but glides right past it, it's not like it was anything that would really put his cover at risk. “What other options do we have?”

“Any option you want.” White says and there's something raw in his voice, something that makes Freddy realize that he might be in a little deeper than he thought here.

He tucks his head underneath White's chin, blood rushing through his ears. “Shit, man. I don't know.” He whispers. “What do _you_ want?”

“I think it's obvious.” The older man says, pressing a kiss to the top of Freddy's head. “I want you, sweet boy, anything you're willing to give me. If it's just casual sex, then it's just casual sex and I ain't gonna complain about that.”

Freddy's head is swimming and he doesn't know what to do with this information, holding White just a little bit tighter as he swallows past the sudden lump in his throat. “I want more than that.” He whispers, so quiet even to his own ears. It's selfish of him because this whole situation is built on a foundation of lies, and telling the truth right now is only gonna make everything harder.

He should have just kept lying.

“I want, y'know. To do stuff with you that's not just sex. I—fuck, man, I like you a lot. I like talking to you and—and kissing you and making you laugh and smoking cigarettes in your car. I walked into that bar prepared for anything but you. But then I saw you and thought you were the most attractive man I'd ever seen and then you _smiled_ at me and I thought to myself, this guy would look perfect in my bed.” Freddy's surprised with himself as the words leave his mouth, and he knows he's gonna regret spilling so much of the truth out on the table but _god_ White laid his cards out first and it wouldn't feel right to keep his inside his sleeve.

“Oh, kid.” White murmurs, pulling Freddy into a deep kiss that somehow feels so much different than every other kiss they've shared, lips moving tenderly as their breaths mingle. White pulls away to press a kiss to Freddy's cheek, then another one to his nose, and then a final press of lips to his forehead. “My sweet baby boy. That's more than I could have asked for. We can figure the rest out later, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.” Freddy agrees, nodding even as he lets sleep take him.

He sleeps better in White's arms than he ever did alone, and just before he drifts off he considers that maybe this was inevitable. And maybe he deserved to let himself have some sort of happiness.

White will know the truth eventually, but Freddy decides that he's gonna figure that out later. For now, he's gonna enjoy every last kiss, every last laugh, every last cigarette that he shares with this guy before it all ends.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Creamsicle is ruining my life. This fic sorta came out of nowhere and didn't go quite the way I planned but oh well.
> 
> Expect many more creamsicle fics from me in the future!!! I love writing about these two.
> 
> Find me on tumblr as buscemiis where sometimes I cry about this ship and get emotional about resdogs.


End file.
